Whispers in the Wind
by NathanHale2
Summary: In the world after the catalysmic CBI outbreak that brought humanity to it's knees, the survivors are left to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives and to survive just for another day. Great many stories roam the lands, telling of hardship, sacrifce and loss. And myth. One, is the story of the destruction of the town Hope. One-shot. Plays in the same universe as "The Line".


Hello there my dear readers, my I present you my next story: Whispers in the Wind. It's an one-shot story playing out before the events of my crossover story "The Line" and are the first steps of mine in creating my 'own' universe. *insert evil laugh here* Anyways I hope you guys enjoy this story of mine. You're all most welcome on leaving a review so I can improve my work.

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><p>Whispers in the Wind<p>

If you asked anyone about the small, prosperous town of Hope just north of Great Falls, many would claim it was Elysium. Paradise on Earth, untouched by the madness-invoking horrors that plagued the world for almost five years. It was a safe haven, filling the hearts and minds of its inhabitants and of those who heard of it with hope and light in those dark times.

Ever since its inception five years ago, following the fall of the Great Falls Quarantine Zone to an exceptionally vicious and ruthless assault by bandits and terrible inner conflict, the steadily growing village of Hope was a bright solid beacon for many people in Montana.

It had prospered greatly under the vigilant eyes of surviving police, military personal, and local militia, reorganizing themselves into an independent self-defence force since contact with the government had long since been cut off.

The village was called Hope, and its message to the bandits who had taken their home was quite clear.

It was a gruelling, tremendously difficult road the survivors had taken upon themselves. Great challenges and unbearable sacrifices took their toll on the survivors of the Fall. The absence of assistance from the government, which was still trying to safe what it could, wherever it could, and the relentless, inhumanly ferocious attacks by the same bandits who had chased the survivors from one safe haven already, proved to be too much for countless people.

However, despite all the losses, sacrifices, and horrors the survivors had to endure, their unity with one another grew stronger with every passing moment as the community as a whole conquered every challenge they had to face, and overcame each gruelling struggle stronger and better than before.

Steadily they grew to be a force to be reckoned with. After two years of hardships and bitter fighting, the survivors came to the decision, that to ensure the safety of their community and a prosperous future of the entire region, the bandits had to be eliminated.

What followed next was one of the greatest slaughters to have ever taken place on U.S. soil. For three weeks, the survivors and the bandits battled each other in a ferocious and costly fight in the ruins of Great Falls. The battle tore through the entire ruined town like a rampaging beast, leaving not a single stone untouched, without remorse or care from either side. Building by building, room by room went the fighting as each side struggled for even the tiniest inch in this once beautiful town.

The guttural, hollering war cries from the bandits and the survivors ripped through the air, drowning out the screams and pitiful whimpers of the dying who begged and shouted for mercy, receiving none whatsoever from either faction.

Soon the town drowned helplessly in crimson blood flowing freely the dead men's corpses littering the town as it filled the streets like the raging waters of a torrential river.

Finally, after nearly three weeks of battle, the bandits were finished. Slaughtered to the last man. No quarter was given, regardless of how pitiful and numerous their cries for mercy were.

So much destruction, so many lives lost.

The sacrifice and loss of countless of people, however, was not in vain. Peace finally settled upon the lands and the population of Hope, and for the first time in many years it breathed a sigh of relief.

With the sightings of Infected lessening with every passing day, the village flourished and grew brightly as new citizens joined the community. The horrendous, foul threat of the Infection that had brought civilization to its knee seemed to have all but disappeared.

Soon travellers from afar came to Hope, and trade between other communities and even Quarantine Zones was established. From the Blackfeet Indian Reservation, to the Upper Missouri River Backs, and all the way to Helena the people soon traded and travelled across the country.

"Grandfather, this is boring! Tell something else! Something awesome!" shouted the chirpy voice of a seven year old boy sitting on a large, brown, slightly battered couch, jumping up and down from his place with unbound energy.

He had black hair, bright brown eyes shimmering hungrily for adventure and fun. The thin, lanky lad was covered by a fading blue shirt that was easily a size or two too large for him. Each speck on his dirtied jeans told a story of one of his adventures with his friends.

The man sitting opposite to the young boy frowned, letting loose an indignant huff, his white, unkempt beard bristling in response.

Steely blue eyes stared at the young boy who grinned unsurely at his grandfather, his shoulders slightly raised in defence.

"Liam, I am telling you the story of our GLORIOUS town, and our family, and our part in establishing the future! This is an important and EPIC story that NEEDS to be passed onto generation after generation!" Liam's grandfather spoke with his loud, powerful, passion-filled baritone voice, using his hand to emphasise his words with emphatic gestures.

"Then tell me about OUR part in all of this! Tell me how you beat the bandits back, wrestled monsters, and other amazing stuff!" Liam demanded brightly, his eager voice filled with anticipation.

"Patience, brat! If you would just can it and hold your horses we'll get to the part a bit faster," the Grandfather said, causing Liam to sigh exaggeratedly, leaping nimbly from the couch; a deed that stirred up a flicker of jealousy within the old man who watched his grandson with a soft, yet faraway look.

"I am going to the shop," Liam announced, already racing towards the front door as fast as his excited little legs could carry him, before sliding to halt just as he touched the doorknob.

Slowly turning back towards his grandfather who was looking at him expectedly, Liam, slightly embarrassed, asked for permission.

"Can I?" he asked softly, mentally kicking himself for forgetting the teachings of his mother.

"Yeah, yeah, beat it. We'll continue the storytelling tonight," before the last words even left the Grandfathers mouth, Liam's face split into a wide grin and in the blink of an eye, opened the door and literally jumped out of the house and into the street outside, leaving the old man gazing after his young descendent.

The streets of the growing town of Hope flourished with activity, citizens busily bustling around all in orderly chaos. Wagons carried by strong, well-nourished horses trotted up and down the streets, carrying travellers and merchants with their precious goods from afar. Single lone cars drove towards wherever they'd please, catching the eyes of quite a few people at the sight of such a rarity.

The street was filled with people who just went on with their lives, just like they had before the outbreak, something no one had ever thought possible. Normality had returned to those who had suffered unbearable losses for almost five years, and who breathed a sigh of relief as they inhaled the sweet-scented air of Freedom and Peace.

In the midst of all the adults ranging from Sector Protection officers to normal labour workers and ordinary folk, the small energy-filled seven year old Liam weaved through the masses of people with one goal in mind, shutting out everything else completely.

Without paying any attention to the numerous wooden houses and a few rare, yet slowly growing number of brick houses, Liam raced past the ever-expanding town until he reached a small shop to his left.

The shop's glassy front was barely five meters wide. On top of the open door hung a plaque with the inscription "Mary-Ann's Spices and Flavours".

"Mum!" Liam cried out with his joyful voice as soon as he set foot in the shop, his loud yell causing the few customers and the long-haired cashier to jump in surprise.

The auburn-haired cashier turned her pretty head towards the source of the disturbance, and a smile appeared on her nearly flawless face. She swiftly finished packing a mixture of oriental spices for her customer before kneeling to eye-level, staring at her young hyperactive son with an almost resigned expression on her face.

"Liam, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay with Grandfather," the young mother questioned with a grin, her crooked nose wrinkling ever so slightly.

"I did, but I was bored and I wanted to stay with you!" Liam said melodramatically, his bright brown eyes looking pleadingly at his mother.

His mother barely managed to suppress the urge to roll her brown eyes at him as she sighed tiredly.

They had this conversation way too many times.

"Liam, I am sorry but I have to work. We'll do something later, okay?" At her words, Liam's head lowered until his gaze had locked onto floor beneath his feet.

"Hey, chin up! We'll do something later and fill your stomach. You are getting thinner by the day," Liam's mother joked while teasingly poking his stomach with her finger, eliciting a frown from his youthful face.

With a pout Liam turned his head back to his mother and huffed, "Fine! Be that way! All I wanted is to keep you from getting bigger and have fun!" Without even waiting for a response, the young boy turned on his heels and dashed out of the shop, turning left to run up the street, disappearing from view, and leaving his stunned and gaping mother at the shop.

The crackling chuckles of a customer snapped the young mother out of her daze as she shook her head, muttering under her breath as she turned towards the still chuckling customer. She fixed him with an icy glare.

Unimpressed by her glare, the man with a slight hunchback spoke, "Cheeky little runt you have there, Mary. Don't you think it's time to teach him some respect?"

Mary's nostrils flared as she her voice rose with every spoken word, "The day you decide to teach my boy some of your respect is the day I'll break your fingers, Bishop."

"This just proves what I have told you years ago," Bishop said with a drawl. Mary narrowed her eyes, glaring over her crooked nose at him, broken too many times by the same man. The atmosphere in the small shop cooled dramatically, the other customers shifting nervously.

"I suggest you to pay for your purchase and get out. You are making my other customers uncomfortable," Mary said in a dangerously low, steady tone, while glaring daggers at Bishop who pulled out his bag of money with a grin on his face as he paid the price for his purchase, briskly walking out of the shop.

Moments after his leave a woman stared at Mary with an unreadable expression before marching out of the shop. A couple more people followed her example, some even giving Mary a glance that literally burned with disdain as they left the store.

Sighing heavily, Mary rested her hands on the check stand, steadying herself as she looked at the few customers that were left and smiled invitingly.

"Next please," She said with a cheery voice and hesitantly, a young man stepped forward carrying a handful of spices ranging from salt, to oregano, to pepper.

The sight of the person caused Mary to almost hit her head on the counter as she bitingly spat out, "I don't need your words of assistance Michael, so just leave it be."

"Mary," Michael tried, only to be cut off by said agitated woman, her auburn hair flowing with her motions as she fixed him with a glare.

"Damn it Michael, I have dealt with this sort a crap for years now, and it hasn't stopped me then, and won't stop me now! You think I give myself up in the face these fucking kindergarten bullies? I have survived the outbreak, the Great White, the Purge, and will most definitely be capable of raising a family!" Mary hissed under her breath, counting Michael's stock and shoving the bill into his chest.

"Fourteen dollars," Mary ground out as she stared into Michael's blue eyes, which glared at her as he dug out his money.

"I know, Mary," Michael said tersely as he counted his money and gave it to Mary's eagerly awaiting hands.

"And you should know ME well enough now, that I never doubted your abilities. Haven't back on the road and ain't gonna start now," Michael spat out bitterly as he collected his goods and marched to the front door, speaking over his shoulder, "We have a dinner at my sister's home at eight o'clock, just wanted to let ya know."

And he was gone. Mary stared at where he had stood moments ago, shaking her head slightly as she turned towards her next customer, this time without a fake smile.

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><p>Liam panted tiredly as he chased after his friends Ian, Jason, Clara, and Chris playing in the playground of Hope's elementary school.<p>

Loud, lively giggles rang through the air as the children played various games with each other; the noise thousands of times more mesmerising then the soft chirping of a nightingale, completely and blissfully unaware of the dangerous world around them. Three years ago such a sight would have been a thing of the impossible, a certain siren call for the disfigured Infected that had roamed across the lands, and the human filth that lurked in the shadows, twisted and sick in their hearts and minds.

However, now was a new age. The Infected had all but disappeared around the "Free Sector", having become nothing more than ghost stories to the children who had never seen the terrible creatures in their lives, and never had to fear them.

They were safe. The Sector Protection Guard and Hope Protection Service patrolled the town and the entirety of the sector with vigour and courage, protecting what they held dear fiercely.

Their armoured cars and heavy weaponry dutifully escorted the Merchant caravans across the lands. They were the heroes and idols of almost every child in the Free Sector.

Liam's mind wandered as he fought a losing battle with his endurance as he imagined his future of being a soldier, a great protector of his home town and the entire sector instead. He would be a hero.

Exhausted Liam nearly fell face-first into the grass, his breath laboured as he struggled for air.

"Fine," he panted tiredly after regaining enough air and energy to speak. "I give up," Liam whispered, his words carried away by the wind. But his friends were having none of it as Ian, with a broad and cocky grin yelled, "What? I didn't hear you! Say it louder!"

"Yeah, say it louder!" Chris yelled as well, as Jason and Marie began to chant.

"Louder! Louder! Louder!"

Liam dug his dirtied hands into the lush green earth as he clenched his teeth, the mocking voices of his friends burning in his heart as he shouted, "I GIVE UP!" The humiliation that burned within him almost made him vomit.

Childish laughter that sounded so viciously cruel to Liam's ears rang through the green fields. Liam grumpily stood, gritting his teeth as his friends jumped towards him, ruffling, pinching, and laughing with the energy only children possess.

Liam grumbled, giving Chris a rough shove as the brown-haired child looped an arm around his head. The wind was knocked out of the boy, who fell to the ground with a breathless huff.

A hurt expression broke across Chris's face as he stared up at Liam looming over him with an evil grin, before he turned on his heels and raced away, yelling loudly over his shoulder, "Tag! You're it!"

The children giggled at the confused state of Chris and swiftly raced away to join Liam in his attempt to flee his soon-to-be pursuer.

Liam ran as far and as fast as his small legs could carry him through the thicket, closely followed by the vivid redhead Clara.

"Clara, come here," Liam panted and pointed at a small ditch close to a dry river, lying flat on his stomach as he used the surroundings as a perfect hiding spot.

Marie sniffed haughtily at the chosen hiding place, but soon lay right beside Liam, her eyes steadily searching for any sign of Chris.

"He'll never catch us this time!" Liam spoke in a low whisper, his voice coated with boastful confidence.

"Hopefully. He'll never let us live this one down. When is your father coming back?" Clara asked in reply, not even sparing a glance with her blue eyes at the boy to her left.

"Guess in a week or so, don't really know. Or care." Liam said, his tone hollow and void of emotions.

"Why are you so mean to your dad? That's not nice!"

"Can't you stay silent for once?" Liam snapped bitingly, his narrowed gaze burning with a fire as the air around them seemed to heat up. "You're just as annoying as those stupid singing birds! At least they're silent now!"

Clara frowned, unshed tears sparkling in her eyes as she abruptly stood up and stormed away from Liam, her quivering sobs echoing throughout the otherwise still and unnaturally silent forest, as the temperature, unnoticed by all, dropped and dropped.

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><p>Mary sighed tiredly as she cleaned the counter of her shop, a cold breeze blowing through her open door, chilling the entire room. Mary barely held back a shiver.<p>

"Weather sure is getting crazy," said an old woman, her last customer of the day.

"You don't say…We're in the middle of the autumn, yes, but still! I swear it's like a thunderstorm is about to come," Mary spoke through clattering teeth, staring worriedly outside as the wind picked up speed, whipping through the streets, causing humans and animals alike to shiver to their very bones and seek shelter.

"Haven't seen a thunderstorm like this since the Great Purge in Oklahoma. Terrible, just terrible," The old woman muttered quietly as she shook her head and paid for her purchase.

Mary looked at the old lady, barely past her forties. Her left leg was replaced with a wooden prosthetic. She was one of the remaining founders of this great town and had certainly paid her tribute.

"Are you sure you want to go home alone in that shitty weather?" Mary asked, causing the older woman to frown deeply as she looked at Mary with narrowed eyes, her fists pressed against her hips.

"While I am not young anymore, you may recall that I am just fifty-one, Mary, and can bloody well take care of myself. Though, thank you for your concern," the elder woman sniffed with an air of arrogance while throwing her greying black hair over her shoulder.

Mary stared incredulously at her long-time friend before bursting out in laughter while the old woman dissolved into chuckles as the intensity of the wind grew.

"Hannah, if Jack ever hears you talking like that he might think he had gone into wrong house," Mary coughed out between bursts of laughter. The far-off, low nickers of the restless horses that roamed the streets outside the shop reached the women's ears.

"Thought it might be good to get a bit of fresh air every now and then. Keeps the mood light," Hannah joked, however sobered up quickly as a faraway gaze settled upon her wrinkled face.

Already having an idea as to what caused the sudden shift of mood in her friend, Mary tentatively asked, "So where did Jack go so suddenly?"

Well, as tentative as she could.

"He is currently out in the field with a company to locate and exterminate…a possible breeding spot near Helena."

Mary paled considerably at her friend's words, her left hand covering her gaping mouth in shock and fear.

"The fungus?" Mary asked breathlessly, gasping when Hannah solemnly nodded her head.

"I thought the infection was gone!" Mary spoke worryingly as images of days long ago resurfaced in front of her mind's eye. The horrors of the past few years slammed into her like a solid brick wall. If the fungus had resurfaced, all would have been for naught. The safety of the entire Sector and her family would be at risk.

"Everyone WISHED it was gone, but now sightings have reached our leaders' ears and a merchant convoy came back to Isaak with only three men telling the…" Hannah searched for the proper words, "all too familiar stories."

Mary's heart plummeted as she weakly held onto her wooden cashier table, steadying herself as her thoughts and worries went out to her husband, who was currently shipping goods to the Indians at Fort Belknap, and her son still playing with his friends.

How she had wished, hoped, and prayed that at least Liam would never face the same horrors as she had mere years ago, instead living a life of peace and health.

"The entire Sector security is doing sweeps through all enclaves, villages, and towns, so we are left with the local town protection. Jack and another hundred others are there, but now it's all hush-hush and whispers so there won't be mayhem in the streets. You can imagine how other people might react," Hannah explained in a low voice, leaning in close as if afraid to be overheard.

Mary's eyes snapped towards Hannah, the hidden meaning behind her friend's words registering in her mind.

Her answer, however, never left her mouth because just when she was about to speak, a very loud scream broke through the air and a wild, frightened neighing chilled the two women to their bones.

Their heads snapped to the front window and they saw, in the middle of the street, a man in ragged clothes struggling tremendously to keep control his panicked black steed. It whirled around, rearing on its hind legs as it neighed in a painfully high voice, kicking out at anyone that dared to come too close to it. Even from within the shop Mary could see, with excruciating detail, the fear in the poor mount as it shook itself wildly until to everyone's horror, the horse managed to loosen the saddle of the rider and flung both off, in a frightening show of power and strength, to the ground below.

The mad horse then rose again on its hind legs and viciously brought them down upon the dazed man, the mount's feet ruthlessly smashing through his weak skull.

"Oh my God!" Mary breathed, as the sickening crunch of the skull reached her ears.

A spout of red fluid flew high into the air as the horse, in one fluid motion, raced down the street at full speed, completely oblivious to the horrified crowd it had left behind as a few Town Protection Officers tore after it.

The street dissolved into panicked shouts and cries for help.

"Hannah, you stay with us tonight," Mary spoke, in a tone that allowed no room for protest as she swiftly secured her shop and returned home to find Liam, with a limping Hannah following her with great difficulty as the first snowflakes descended upon the town.

Frost seemingly gripped the very air itself in a strangling hold as snow whipped through the deserted streets, carried by the angry wind like a bloodthirsty whip lash. Almost every citizen had sought shelter in their homes or public buildings as the howling winds raged through their town, the sky as dark as midnight even though it was barely evening.

The animals had fled long before the storm hit. Not a single horse was in its stable. All had left in a crazed hurry, stampeding over anything that stood in their way, with their caretakers unable to stop them.

Many adults trembled in fear as the storm brought forth the dreadful memories of the Great White, and slowly icy horror clenched each heart at the mere thought of another equally terrible winter knocking at their door.

Amongst the many trembling townsfolk was small Liam, sulking close to the fireplace with his grandfather, mother, and Hannah huddling close in front of it for warmth.

"Barely eight o'clock and it's like it's already midnight outside," Grandfather grumbled as he threw in more firewood, barely suppressing a shiver.

"At least it's a full moon," Liam chimed in, rubbing his hands together as his mother embraced him in a warm hug.

"PAH! Good luck seeing anything through this storm!" Grandfather bellowed mockingly, clutching his coat tighter around his shoulders.

"I swear it's like the Great White all over again…" Hannah sputtered out through clattering teeth.

"What is the Great White, Mom?" Liam asked, tilting his head up to his mother, his brown hair tickling Mary's neck as she forced a smile.

"A story for another time, sweetie," she whispered as she pecked his forehead, clutching his tiny body tighter to her chest, swallowing the traumatic memories of the past.

The noise of the howling wind was deafened suddenly by a loud crack of thunder that shook the townsfolk to their very bones. Teeth clattering, the people grew silent, with only the few cries and panicked screams of terrified children tormenting the adults as bone-shaking, booming thunder rolled across the sky.

The thunder grew in intensity and frequency, chilling everyone down their spines.

The torment seemed without end as the thunder rocked the heavens for almost an eternity, with little Liam clutching the fabric of his mother's clothes even tighter as his ears were violently assaulted by this deafening storm.

"Fucking hell," Grandfather cursed suddenly, his head whipping towards the window at the front entrance, ignoring the seething look of Mary at his curse words. She closed Liam's ears as he spoke, his voice barely a whisper, "are there horses still outside?"

Hannah simply shook her head as she answered, "There aren't any horses outside anymore, they all hauled ass before the storm hit town," dismissively waving her hand as a thunderous grumble rocked the sky, the windows shaking in their frames.

"Listen you old hag, there was just the neighing outside the house!" Grandfather hissed through gritted teeth as he slowly got to his feet, his joints cracking soundly as he moved towards the window. He gazed deeply into the howling storm, snow pelting the window.

"How about you check yourself in, asshole? There's nothin' out there, just damned thunder and that fucking wind!" Hannah growled, glaring daggers into the old man's back as the wind screeched through the abandoned streets of Hope, the noise growing terribly louder as the thunder continued mercilessly. It seemingly gained momentum as it cracked through the air without pause.

Liam felt shivers running up and down his spine, the distant, growling rumble etched into his mind.

"Mom, I think Granddad is right," Liam muttered under his breath into his mother's ear, who in turn shot a burning glare at the old man, hissing, "Elias, enough!"

Hannah threw her arms up in an exaggerated motion, "See, you're starting to scare the kid!" she literally growled as the wind screamed and wheezed, the distant rumble now shaking the family's very bones. The fine cutlery began to shake on the swaying table.

The furniture soon started to quiver in its place, the windowpane rattling loudly as the wooden floorboards creaked and trembled beneath the family's feet.

A confused, utterly mystified expression clouded Mary's face as she looked at her friend, a million thoughts ringing through her as, uncertain if her mind was playing tricks on her, she heard low whispers carried by the screeching wind. Noises that turned to terrifying screams rang in Mary's ears as she shakily stood up, clutching her son tightly to her breast.

Faint, white fog gathered around her mouth and nose, her breath clearly visible in front of everyone as she stood rooted to the swaying, shaking floor that rocked her entire body.

Ice crystals began to form on the windowpane, slowly spreading before Grandfather's eyes, his ears picking something like wild, eager, hungry neighing and snarls.

A thousands questions shot through his mind as fear clouded his senses, keeping a firm and unforgivingly icy hold on his heart, when eyes suddenly caught something.

It was a glimpse at best in the middle of this white chaos, but he could've sworn…

Mary, still clutching Liam, stared numbly through the window, her cutlery in the kitchen broken into millions of sharp shards lying across the floor. She struggled to stand upright as she swayed on the spot like a small, flimsy toy in a doll's house, her furniture crashing loudly to the ground as Grandfather sucked in a breath.

His eyes started to go wide as his face paled to an ashen white, his mouth falling open as a faint crimson shimmer shone through the window, reflecting in his eyes.

Before anyone could even react the world exploded in an firework of pain and screams. Red mist clouded everyone's sight, as Mary screamed a high pitched screech as she felt herself being flung off her feet across the room and landing on her back sending jolts of pain all across her body.

The noise of tortured, panicked female screams and rattling, hungry neighing echoed within Mary. Terrible knots twisted Mary's insides. Her skin burned and tore open as she felt large, unidentifiable claws ripping away at her without mercy. She screamed and flailed helplessly on the ground, her death grip on her son only intensifying as she felt herself being torn asunder.

Guttural, angry snarls and barks resounded around her, curses spoken in foul, harsh, hate-filled voices. The creatures bellowed, grunted, and shrieked maddeningly as they tore at her. Unfathomable rage radiated from these unseen, horrendous wretches as they hooked their ugly, disgusting claws into her arms, snapping them with a loud, stomach-wrenching crack, eliciting a raw, agonized wail from Mary's throat.

The feeling of her bones shattering into hundreds pieces inside her arms jolted her mind to a standstill as pain flared throughout her entire being. She was unable to form a single coherent thought as her body convulsed and darkness reached out for her. A sharp, ice-cold fang punctured her neck and the darkness overwhelmed her.

Liam screamed and yelped in sheer terror as he felt alien claws gripping his body in an unrelenting hold, his eyes clamped shut as he was covered by a hazy red fog.

He heard the noise of a chaotic struggle, wood splintering and breaking under tremendous force with a stomach-twisting, squelching noise. It was like someone squeezing meat in their fists. But his young mind was thankfully unable process this noise; he only cared about one thing.

He wasn't with his mother anymore, and someone foreign to him held him in a painful and violent grip.

Liam screamed, wailed, and cried, his arms and legs kicking and lashing out blindly at anything he could hit. Streams of tears streaked down his cheeks as broken sobs shook his tiny body.

Disgustingly wet and sticky flesh plastered against Liam's back as horrid claws dug painfully deep into his body, causing him to cry in pure agony as he felt his flesh giving away to the razor-sharp talons of his captors.

Metallic rattling and soft wet dripping noises sounded all around him as he felt the icy cold air hitting his body with unforgiving force.

Wind whipped sharply against his face, cutting small lines into his dirty, tearstained cheeks, the red haze slowly vanishing as he blinked rapidly. He pitifully sobbed to himself, his futile struggle carried by the wind as he opened his eyes.

They widened at the sight before him, his face contorted into a suspended expression of terror as he let loose a mind-splitting, nightmarish shriek and fainted in the arms of his kidnapper, who flew majestically through the air and into the unknown.

The town once called Hope was blazing fiercely. Not a single building was spared, some toppling to the ground, others torn apart by unseen forces. The fire below smouldered without end as thick, black smoke rose into the heavens, clouding the town in a suffocating dome.

A multitude of screams and cries of the helpless and dying ripped through the air, their bones crushed and flesh torn apart, resonating throughout the entire town.

White, hot lighting shot through the sky, illuminating the doomed land in a cursed light, throwing unnatural shadows upon the land below.

Maddened neighing haunted the air, crazed galloping thundered across sky, and maniacal screams and war cries from torn and cut throats bellowed, sending jolts of fear into their preys' hearts. The smoke split apart and a wave of riders stormed the town below, riding upon furious lighting.

They galloped to the ground with frightening speed astride their ghastly, skeletal steeds, their razor sharp, jagged swords clutched tightly by rotting hands. Their rusty armor clattered in pace with their mad, hungry mounts as they galloped and hunted across the lands for their prey. Decayed flesh oozed out of slits and holes, their horrendous faces awful and terrible.

And there, riding the blood tainted sky, a whole cavalcade of mad riders rode in wide circles around the town below, their gallows slowly tightening, their numbers too many for the human mind to comprehend.

Their leader, riding at the head of the deathly snake, was a figure with a crown. Its flesh peeled of its body, its rusted armour clanging loudly as it emitted a sinister dark, red fog. Its rotten skull with deathly, piercing red eyes shone with unearthly malice through bottomless black pits, gazing into the night with almost sadistic pleasure. They rested upon the gutted town below as it drowned in the blood of its own citizens. The riders rode underneath a full crimson moon, colouring the sky blood red as damned horns bellowed for the eternal hunt to the end of existence and cruel, vicious snarls and bone-chilling yells tore through the riders' open throats as they descended upon their prey below.

This night, they knew, will be a rich hunt.


End file.
